


In Distress

by Traincat



Category: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traincat/pseuds/Traincat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pelleas is in distress. His knight is not quite what he was expecting. Slightly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/gifts).



Pelleas had been hoping for a hero for days. Not that the dragon was treating him particularly badly – in fact, he kept insisting that he knew his grandfather – but Pelleas had read a lot of stories as a child. He wasn’t a damsel, but he was in distress, which meant that any moment now a hero was supposed to show up and save him. Well, that, and there was that thing the previous year with his brother.

Also, sleeping on a pile of gold, while glamorous, was getting very uncomfortable.

He was very relieved when he woke up one morning and a girl with silver hair was crouched by the entrance to the cave.

She raised a finger to her lips and shushed him.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Pelleas told her earnestly. “The dragon’s gone out for a bit. They get hungry, you know, and there aren’t any good sheep on this mountain.”

“Why don’t you just leave, then?” the girl asked, furrowing her brow.

Pelleas hesitated. He didn’t know. It had never occurred to him.

“Never mind,” the girl said. “I need someone to rescue, anyway.”

Pelleas blinked.

“You?” he said. “I thought you were a squire!”

“Well, I’m not,” the girl said, frowning.

“You don’t even have a sword,” Pelleas pointed out.

“No, I don’t,” the girl said simply. She climbed the rest of the way into the cave, fingers catching and scraping against the stone walls. “I’m Micaiah.”

“Pelleas,” he said blankly, and then she was standing before him. Her long silver hair was windswept and her face was pink from the cold and the climb. She was wearing chainmail that was too big for her. “Why don’t you have a sword?”

“Well, I’m not exactly a knight,” she said. “Also, they’re pretty heavy. I’m not sure I could lift one.”

“Oh,” Pelleas said, faintly. This was not the rescue he was expecting.

\--

The dragon took his time coming back, so Pelleas ended up sitting opposite Micaiah on the cold cave floor, mostly listening while she talked. She had a nice voice. And a nice face. And pretty hair. And she wanted to help people.

Pelleas desperately wanted her to leave so she wouldn’t be eaten.

“Don’t worry so much,” she said to him, taking his hands in her own. They were warm, and soft, and her fingers looked small and delicate against his own. “I know what I’m doing.”

Pelleas sincerely doubted that.

“What if you’re eaten?” he asked. His voice came out smaller than he had meant it to.

“Well,” she said, far too calm about the ‘you might possibly get devoured’ situation, “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

\--

Night came, and the dragon hadn’t returned. Micaiah waved aside Pelleas’ suggestions that maybe she should just turn around and leave and find herself a less dangerous career.

“I came all this way,” she said, holding her head up high. “I’m going to see this through.”

It was cold in the cave after nightfall, and Micaiah was a lady, so Pelleas went digging through the dragon’s storeroom until he found a carpet. It was ornate, and dusty, and probably cost a small fortune, but it could double as a blanket for the night.

“I couldn’t possibly,” Micaiah said when Pelleas returned with it. “I’m here to rescue you, after all! You should take it.”

“I’ve been fine so far,” Pelleas said.

“We’ll share,” Micaiah said, nodding. Her tone was final.

Pelleas felt his palms start to sweat. This was nothing at all like the rescue he’d been expecting.

\--

The carpet was large enough that there was a considerable amount of cave floor between them, but Pelleas still swore he could feel the heat coming off of Micaiah. He twitched and shifted, unable to get comfortable, then froze when he heard the clink of her chainmail.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

“Err,” he said. “Yes?”

“How long is the dragon usually gone for?” she asked.

Pelleas thought about it.

“It depends,” he said after a moment. “Mostly on how easy it is for him to find sheep. And sometimes he likes to take a nap after, you know, to digest.”

Micaiah was silent for a long moment; when Pelleas turned to face her, she was frowning.

“A lot of people depend on those sheep,” she said. “Their very livelihoods are at stake.”

“Yes,” Pelleas agreed instantly. “It’s, ah, terrible? Someone should do something about it.”

“That’s why I’m trying to slay this dragon,” Micaiah said. “Someone ought to do something to help.”

“It’s very noble of you,” Pelleas said, and his breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him.

“What about you?” she asked. “How did you end up here?”

“It’s sort of a long story,” he said, rolling onto his back. The cave wall was covered in jewels and it shone in the moonlight, casting odd shadows down on them. Micaiah shone in the light, and he thought it wise to stop looking at her.

“I’ve got nowhere to be,” she said.

Pelleas made a face at the ceiling.

“It’s family tradition,” he said. “Or, at least, it has been since my brother got himself kidnapped by a dragon.”

Micaiah stared.

“I told you it was a long story,” he said.

“Is he alright?” Micaiah asked.

“What? Oh, he’s fine. Got rescued by a nice fellow. They’re very happy together. Isn’t it funny how rescuees always seem to end up with their rescuers?” Pelleas realized what he had said and felt his face turn red. “Not that, ah, that always happens! I was just saying, you know, it seems there are a lot matches like that.”

“It’s probably the adrenaline rush,” Micaiah said. She didn’t seem flustered by Pelleas’ remark at all, which just made him blush harder. He pulled the carpet up to his chin.

“Yes, that’s what I was saying. The excitement and all. Theoretically,” he said into the carpet. “I think I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Sleep well,” Micaiah said. Pelleas somehow doubted that he would.

\--

Pelleas woke with a start and lay there for a moment, wondering what had roused him. Then he heard it, in the distance – the dragon’s roar. Micaiah sprang to her feet.

“What do you plan to do?” Pelleas asked her, scrambling to roll the carpet back up. If there was going to be a fight, at least he could get it out of the way first. It wouldn’t do to have it bled all over. His could just see his mother having an absolute fit.

“Well, I plan to win, mostly,” Micaiah said, but she didn’t look as sure as she had before. Still, she planted her feet on the cave floor and stood there, waiting. Pelleas got out of her way – he wasn’t certain how, exactly, dragon fights usually went down, but he was sure he would only mess it up. He edged along the wall of the cave, tripped over a priceless vase and went down in a shower of ancient coins just as the dragon landed.

There was a long pause, during which Micaiah was silent and the dragon was silent and Pelleas was trying to figure out whether he had broken anything besides his (already rather dismal) pride.

Another beat, and the dragon cleared his throat with a wheeze of brimstone and a puff of smoke.

“Well, you’re not the boy,” he said to Micaiah.

Micaiah drew herself up to full height – which was still rather short – and squared her shoulders.

“I’m Micaiah of Nevassa,” she declared, “and I am here to defeat you in the name of my country!”

“Oh dear,” the dragon said. “You’re really rather small for that, aren’t you? Come closer, let me get a good look at you.”

“Sorry,” Pelleas called, carefully picking himself up off the ground. “He’s rather old. I suppose I should have mentioned that earlier.”

“It might have been helpful,” Micaiah said.

“Really very sorry,” Pelleas said. He picked a coin out of his hair and put it back into the pile.

Micaiah edged forward towards the mouth of the cave. The dragon bent its great head and squinted at her.

“You’re just a bitty thing,” he said. “I’ve been challenged by all sorts before, but never anyone like you. I’m not sure how I’d feel about this fight – it’s probably better if you leave, child.”

Micaiah’s mouth fell open.

“You’re not going to fight me?” she said.

“Oh, thank the goddess,” Pelleas murmured under his breath, sending his eyes skyward.

“It just doesn’t seem very fair,” the dragon said. He stretched his leathery wings and then folded them against his back. “You’d probably better go now.”

Micaiah clenched her fists. She stared up at the dragon.

“I can’t do that,” she said. “I promised people. I said I would defeat you.”

Pelleas’ breath caught again, like he knew what she was going to do before she did it. He wanted to make her go, but he was stuck, frozen, crouched by the dragon’s treasure pile. There were words stuck in his throat – _no_ and _don’t_ and _please, for me, I don’t want you to die_ \-- but they stuck together, gluing his teeth shut. He clenched his hands over his knees.

“It’s not very wise to make promises you can’t keep,” the dragon said, the tone of his rumbling voice not unkind.

“I can keep it,” Micaiah said from between her teeth. She threw up her hands and blinding light filled the cave. Pelleas gasped, and threw his arm over his eyes. The dragon let out a great keening wail.

"You!” Pelleas shouted, getting to his feet. He pointed a finger at Micaiah. “You’re magic!”

The dragon lashed out before Micaiah could reply, and his flailing wings and tail took up most of the cave. Micaiah threw herself against the wall to avoid them and before Pelleas knew what was happening, his legs were taking him to her. He knelt on the ground next to her and his hands came to her shoulders, helping her up.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had magic?” he asked. She looked at him, her golden eyes unreadable.

“It just didn’t seem like something that would come up,” she said, letting the ruined spell page fall from her hand.

 _Of course it’s important!_ , Pelleas wanted to say, but the dragon was turning on them, blinking furiously and showing off rows and rows of sharp teeth, so instead he said, “Look out!”

Micaiah’s head flew up, and she started murmuring under her breath, the light in her hands growing brighter by the moment, but it wouldn’t be enough. Pelleas could see it happening – the dragon would lunge before Micaiah could finish her spell, could make the light bright enough to hurt something so big, and she would be doomed.

Pelleas let go of Micaiah. He raised his hands and concentrated, hard, hard enough that he saw spots, but slowly, the shadows rose up from the ground. Tendrils, at first, misty and insubstantial, but then bigger and stronger. They wrapped around the dragon’s legs, winding like vines, and Pelleas closed his hands and his eyes and _pulled_.

The dragon stumbled and fell with a roar to the ground.

All was silent for a moment, and then Micaiah turned, looking at Pelleas with wide eyes.

“You,” she said a little breathlessly. He lowered his hands.

“Me, I guess,” he said.

“You’re magic?” she said.

“More or less,” he murmured, and raised a hand to his forehead, checking out of habit to see if the mark was covered. There was no real point getting into that now.

Micaiah smiled at him, and the clenching feeling in his chest lightened. He smiled back.

The dragon groaned, and ruined the moment.

Micaiah got to her feet, pulling Pelleas up with her. She didn’t let go of him afterwards, though, and their hands stayed linked as she circled around to stand near the dragon’s head.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” she said quietly.

It took Pelleas a moment to grasp her meaning.

“Oh,” he said. “Neither have I.”

They stood there, Micaiah’s fingers squeezing his, until the dragon opened one huge eye. It looked first at Micaiah, then at Pelleas. Then it heaved a mighty sigh, smoke curling up from its nostrils.

“Two against one changes things a bit,” the dragon said. “Alright, children. What do you want?”

“I want you to leave this place,” Micaiah said. “And never return. And let Pelleas go.”

Pelleas turned to her, and felt himself start to smile. She squeezed his fingers again.

The dragon sighed again.

“Not a very good deal for me,” he said. “But I suppose I have to agree. Your mother would be very upset if I kept up this fight and anything happened to you, boy.”

“Thank you, sir,” Pelleas said, a bit breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me,” the dragon said, slowly climbing to its feet. “Thank your grandfather. I still owe him a favor or two from back in the day. Plays a mean game of poker, that old lizard.”

Micaiah turned to stare at Pelleas.

“Long story,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

\--

The sunlight was warm on his face, and the air was cold with winter chill. Pelleas shivered as he followed Micaiah down the cliffs.

“What do you plan to do now that you’ve banished the dragon?” he asked her. “I mean, you’ll be a hero.”

“I’ve never really had much interest in being a hero,” Micaiah said. “I suppose I’ll find something else to do, somewhere. People always need help.”

“That sounds nice,” Pelleas said.

“What about you?” she asked, and he paused, catching himself as his feet slid against the rough rocks. She reached out and grabbed his elbow, steadying him, and he turned to stare at her. Her long silver hair was tossed by the wind, thrown in her face, and her wide eyes were shining. She was magic and she had defeated a dragon and she wanted to _help_ people. He swallowed.

“I don’t really know,” he admitted. “There’s never been much for me to do.”

Micaiah pursed her lips.

“You could come with me,” she said.

“I could?” Pelleas said.

“Well, I mean, it won’t just be me,” she said. “There’s my brother, and our friends. It’s like a little group.”

“Oh,” Pelleas said, quietly.

“But,” Micaiah said, averting her eyes. “I’d like it if you came.”

“Oh,” Pelleas said again. Micaiah smiled and tucked a lock of her behind her ear.

“What do you say, Pelleas?” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Want to come on an adventure?”

“I think I’ll have to tell my mother,” he said faintly. Micaiah put her arm through his. “She’ll have a fit.”

“We defeated a dragon today,” she said. “I think we can handle your mother.”

“You don’t know my mother,” Pelleas said.

Micaiah laughed and they started back down the cliff, together.


End file.
